How Long is Forever
by Kairen-Cirrus
Summary: For the reapers, their immortality can be a blessing and a curse. For Grell, it is mostly monotony . Jack the Ripper stirs inside to be free again. But the consequences for Grell's misbehavior are dire, and William can only cover up their tracks for so long. The reels of their lives spin rapidly to a close as their madness escalates. Their love is eternal, but how long is forever?
1. The Coming Storm

Susan ran as hard and as fast as she could, but no matter how fast she seemed herself to go, the grinning madman behind her would not relent. He was humming to himself, practically skipping, while she felt as though her lungs would burst, her chest heaving with exhaustion. Her legs felt as though they were running through water but she couldn't stop, she had to keep going. It was like something out of a nightmare. He had no trouble at all keeping up with her frantic pace. This was the fastest she had ever run, the farthest she had ever run, but still the man was behind her, as if gliding on a cloud. They said that adrenaline kicked in for humans in survival situations such that they could escape most dangers. But she feared it wasn't enough. When she felt her pace slowing, she chanced a horrified look behind her only to hear the revving of a chainsaw come to her ears. No, it was worse than any of her nightmares. Tears sprung to her eyes as she fell on the ground, utterly spent.

"No… oh god, oh please…" She begged, uncontrollable tears streamed down her face, and she felt a coldness gripping her heart that she had never felt before. This was a terror she had never experienced.

"Please… please don't…"

But the man merely grinned wider as he stood above her. She felt she was going mad, that her terror was distorting the image of this man, who couldn't be real, shouldn't be real. His hair was a flaming color, and it cascaded down and over his shoulders like a river of blood. His teeth were sharklike, menacing, his expression was cruel.

"…w-why… why me…" She was whimpering now. Her pleas were but feeble whispers falling on deaf ears for she did not have the strength to cry out for help. And who would hear? She was alone at night on the outskirts of London.

He raised his chainsaw over his head, and then she felt a flicker of pain across her neck. There was a moment, only a moment of stillness before it exploded into agony. Blood poured from her neck onto her clothes, the street, she felt herself drowning. She struggled and gasped, trying to breathe in air but only succeeding in swallowing her own blood. Choking and rasping, she clawed at her neck, as if to rip out her own throat, to be spared the pain for any further moments. Her lungs were bursting, her vision fading, still the pain continued. Her eyes cried out tears though they would do her no good, and her body twitched and spasmed, contorting itself in ways she did not know she could.

She wanted it to end, oh god, she needed it to end. Death would be a welcome respite for this horror, and she reached out a twitching, desperate hand towards the man who had attacked her. Ever fiber of her being begged for him to finish the job, to end it now, but he wouldn't. Cruelly he stood there, still smiling at her. He seemed to revel in her pain, her attempts to cry out. Then she felt her body growing colder, her strength giving out though the pain barely faded. Her body fell limp and as she felt the last bit of life leaving her, she thought she could see her life flashing before her eyes.

She could see her first birthday party, her first day of school, her first kiss to a childhood sweetheart… She saw her parents running toward her to congratulate her on her college graduation, and she remembered the first date she had ever had with her future husband. She saw her struggles, her triumphs, her loves, her hopes, her family, her friends. And then there was darkness. And at last, peace.

* * *

Grell took in a deep breath, reveling in the smell of freshly spilled blood, the sound of her chainsaw whirring, and the cool, damp air on her skin. She loved these muggy, London nights. The air was so thick you could touch it, and it sent a fever down her spine to think of the bustling life in the city streets.

Every half a century or so, she just needed to get out like this. She needed to leave the office, leave her paperwork and obligations behind, and just spill a little blood. Oh, and she loved it when they ran. She loved being able to reward their looks of terror with a taste of her beautiful scythe. She felt in those moments that she was a true and proper death god. Instead of a pencil-pushing, schedule-keeping dispatch worker, she was an honest to god reaper. After all, death should be unexpected and terrifying. If it wasn't, then life wouldn't be worth living. And in the eternal years of pseudo-life she had to spend in an old and tired routine, she needed to remind herself sometimes that she was alive. She needed to feel that spark in her dull world of grey, where they told her to do her job emotionlessly and quickly.

But that wasn't who she was. She was like fire, and she couldn't be held down or restrained or caged. If you placed a fire in a glass container, eventually it would die as it burned up all the air inside the glass. Slowly it would fade away into nothing, leaving behind only a residual heat as proof that it had once existed. Grell felt like that flame, forced to slowly suffocate behind an office desk and heaps of paperwork. Only she wouldn't go out that easily. No, she would break those cursed glass walls and break out like an explosion. And there were very few things in all the worlds that could stop her rampage. Except…

"She wasn't even a whore."

She whipped around as she heard the cold voice behind her, and her mad eyes grew soft at the sight of her favorite pair of green eyes. Oh, how she loved this man. Regrettably, his love wasn't enough to keep her content in this monotonous life they led, but they had both accepted that centuries ago.

When she had been the blade of Jack the Ripper, it had been unprecedented and had taken them all by surprise. Even she hadn't known that she could have been capable of such deeds. And while she had regretted much of it because of her love for William, she still couldn't forget what it had been like. It was like a bittersweet drug. She found herself longing for that recklessness again and again. Even as she knew it was wrong, no, because she knew it was wrong, she wanted it more and more. And as much as she loved William and wanted to enjoy the life they had together, she couldn't deny the bloodlust inside. It was who she was. There were so many emotions inside of her, so many were ill-suited to the life of a reaper.

William had vowed to love her despite it all. Only a few decades after her escapades as Jack the Ripper, she tested that love. Not out of spite or doubt, but because she couldn't hold it in anymore. The walls were closing in too close, the chains were too tight, and she needed to lash out. She needed to punish someone, anyone would do, for the ill-fated life she had been given. She needed to take life in exchange for the life she could not give. She needed to kill a woman out of envy and frustration that they had been given what she so wanted. She needed to spill blood, to see that flowing, sanguine proof that there was life, and to know that she too, was very much alive.

And when William had found her then, in her second slip, he had seen it coming. He welcomed her back with open arms and covered her tracks for her. He comforted her pain, made her feel warm and loved and wanted, satisfied her lust, and confirmed his love for her all over again.

The third time she had gone rogue, he had been more than ready. Before either of them had realized it, it had become something of a routine for both of them. Grell would need to cut loose, William would cover her tracks, then the two of them would reaffirm their love and their vows to spend eternity together in a bloody, twisted chain of events. Perhaps one day that too would become too monotonous for Grell, and she would crave more, but for now, she couldn't get enough of these nights. For now, she loved the routine, just as much as she would look forward to spending the rest of her evening in William's apartment as he fueled her fire as only he knew how.

Grinning at the sight of him, she began to twirl a strand of her hair before finally responding to his observation about the woman she had just murdered.

"Does it matter? She's a woman. And maybe if I break my usual pattern, it'll be easier to cover up. Someone was bound to notice soon that every few decades, a string of prostitutes go dead in London."

Stepping away from the corpse, she leaned up against William, one hand coyly fiddling with the buttons of his blazer.

"Let's go home~ I need to shower and get this blood out of my hair."

Tip-toeing slightly, she planted a chaste kiss on William's cheek, but he was unresponsive. He stared coldly at the woman on the pavement before speaking again,

"This is the third time in two years."

Grell's eyebrows furrowed. She could never quite read the tone in William's voice, somehow, he remained as unreadable as ever throughout the centuries. But she could guess that perhaps he was a little upset right now at the new frequency in her… escapades.

"Will-"

"I can't cover this up as easily as the others."

He sounded worried, and his eyebrows were starting to furrow. And Grell couldn't bear the guilty feeling his words inflicted on her. She didn't want to imagine the idea that she could be caught again, that they could… that Will would risk himself and his career for her again. That had broken her heart all those decades ago, she didn't want to inflict that on him again.

"Will, darling… Maybe in the worst case scenario, I'll just be suspended again for a while. That wouldn't be so horrible. I mean, it has been a very long time since Angelina and I-"

"Don't say her name."

Grell was taken aback. William had never begrudged her from saying Madam Red's name in the past. Taking William's hands in her own, she grasped them tightly before putting herself directly in front of him, hoping to meet his gaze.

"Will, what's wrong?"

For a while, he said nothing, and he refused to meet her eyes. And then he closed his eyes, sighing heavily before letting his shoulder slump slightly. The air felt cold around Grell. In a small corner of her mind, she wondered if William was giving up on her. She wondered if the centuries of dealing with her insanity had finally caught up with him and if he was finally beginning to tire of this relationship. She could hardly blame him, but she didn't want it to be true.

"I couldn't cover up the last incident that well. General Pearce is suspicious. If you had waited longer before this, it might have been fine, but now…"

Grell felt a small glimmer of relief in her heart as her fear was doused, but a new concern quickly took its place.

"Will… I-"

She didn't know what to say. There were perhaps so many things that she should say, but nothing she could say. She couldn't apologize, the deed was done, and she wasn't sorry. She wasn't sure what she could do to help either. Chances were, she'd just mess everything up and they'd be in deeper trouble than they could be if William handled it.

For a few agonizing minutes, they stood there in the London mist, grasping each other's hands tightly, the only two beings in the whole world who mattered. Grell wanted time to stop for just them two. She didn't want to go back, she didn't want to face any potential consequences for their actions, she didn't want to make William face it either. She lowered her head to stare at the pavement beneath their feet, pavement that was younger than they were. Centuries of constant, changing human life, yet they remained unchanged. It was one thing to be senior death gods in their division and boast experience over the younger reapers, but to be able to boast maturity when compared to a tree… It was as if it had just dawned on her just how long she had lived. Eternity wanted to catch up with her, but she didn't want to let it.

And finally William turned to leave, and she followed obediently. They stole away back home in the dark of the night, and they made love until morning. And every time was raw and desperate, filled with fever and sorrow. They cried out as if the world were deaf and bit and scratched and clung to each other. It was never enough. Even though it filled her with ecstasy, she couldn't enjoy it.

It was different this time. Although she had spent her long years wishing for excitement, for something new and different, she suddenly dreaded the coming change. When she closed her eyes, she thought she could hear the bells of Westminster Abbey ringing in the distance. She tried to imagine they were her wedding bells, but still they rang somber in her ears.

* * *

**A/N:** Um... I hope you will enjoy this story. And by enjoy, I mean that I hope you cry your heart out. I needed a break from the AMV I am working on to write out the angst that pervades the video. As always, reviews are much appreciated.


	2. Lies Unraveled

The steady clicking of a typewriter, the shuffling of paper, and the nervous tapping of William's foot filled the air outside of General Pierce's office. William was there yet again to file papers about an untimely death, once again trying to make excuses for Grell and hide the fact that his lover had been going on frequent… hunts in the human realm for a few thrills. Most of the time, William blamed it on a stray demon. It was easy to fault a mindless bunch of soul-stealing insects whose sole purpose was to make their job more difficult. After all, demon attacks were the only deaths that showed up on their ledgers unexpectedly and without prior scheduling.

If it were Grell, their cover-up would have ended there on a paper trail that claimed to the contrary with no one else to the wiser… unless they bothered to check the actual cinematic records. Only William had had the foresight to actually go in and edit the records afterwards. It grieved him to do it, he knew what a violation it was of his reaper duties, but once he had learned that it was possible thanks to a particular incident with a rogue death god, he had been abusing its advantages. It was an added protection that ensured Grell's safety. No one had ever really checked.

Well, no one had checked until eight months ago, when General Pierce had demanded to see the records of the family that had been assaulted. He was tiring of the frequent demon attacks and wanted to check the records and see if the demon responsible could be tracked down. Perhaps they could inform all the reapers in the division of what the demon looked like so that they could keep an eye out as they were out collecting. But the records gave nothing away. The family had been out together when something startled them, and then the records went blank. There was nothing near the time of death. And this was strange because human records kept everything, right down to the moment that their lives give out. Sometimes it's rather brutal and gruesome, but the records usually had every moment of agony and pain and fear until their own consciousnesses go blank.

It was beyond William's ability to edit the records with false information. He could only clip out their last moments relevant to Grell. It was a sloppy job, but it usually did the trick. Last time General Pierce had found the record to be suspicious and had dismissed William as he claimed that he wanted to do further research on the piece. William hoped that General Pierce had let it lie, especially since he had gone many months without hearing a word about it. But now that he was about to go and send it another faulty report, he was actually nervous, though his face didn't show it.

Finally the door clicked open, and the General stood before him with a stern look on his face.

"Come in, Spears."

Obediently following the General, William walked straight into the office without hesitation, not a trace of doubt evident in his features. Taking his files to the desk, he stood in front of it, intending to drop off the forms and leave straightaway, but then he heard the sound of the office door closing behind him.

"Sit down, Spears."

Not missing a beat, William maintained his stoic facade as he did as he was told and took his place in one of the chairs before the General's desk. When the General came around to sit in his own chair, William passed the files over the desk to him, remarking simply,

"This is the report of last night's unscheduled death. Only one, female, mid-thirties, found in an alley on Old Pye Street."

The General let a sigh escape through his nostrils before he folded his hands together and placed them on the desk over the file.

"And if I were to inspect this record, will I discover that it's been tampered with as well?"

Not missing a beat, William coolly replied.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I think you know perfectly well what I mean, Spears. The records, many of the unscheduled reports going back the past couple hundred years, have all been tampered with. They're all the murders that take place within a mile radius of Westminster."

"A demon, sir?"

The General slammed his hands down on the desk then, but still William did not flinch.

"A demon cannot see nor edit a cinematic record, everyone knows that!"

"Unprecedented, perhaps, but it could very well be a new development that we-"

"Unprecedented, because it's impossible."

"Then what are you implying, General?"

Though his eyes gave nothing away, deep in his heart, William feared the worst. They had been discovered.

"These records could only have been tampered with by a reaper. One of this division."

"I don't believe that any of my staff-"

"Save for one."

"…General."

But the General raised a hand, staring down William like a lion stares down a gazelle before it pounces for the kill. He was absolutely furious, but more than that, he looked utterly disappointed.

"It wouldn't be the first time that dispatch member Grell Sutcliff acted out of line. He's broken these rules before."

"That was hundreds of year ago, sir. He hasn't had an incident since."

"He hasn't had any we've noticed." The General corrected.

"I still don't think-"

"I don't give a damn what you think, Spears! Your judgment is not to be trusted when it comes to that madman! An entire division of fine reapers, and you'd let them all suffer an inquiry for the sake of defending your lover when it's obvious to anyone that he's the one responsible."

For a few moments, tense silence hung in the air between them. William sat still, allowing the general to catch his breath, though that wouldn't necessarily calm him.

"You still don't have proof for these accusations, sir."

"I'll have my proof in due time once I confiscate his scythe to see if he's the one responsible for tampering with the records."

Internally, William let out a breath of relief as Grell had never been the one to fix the evidence. It had only been him. Were they to investigate, they would find no trace that Grell's scythe had been anywhere near the records.

"…and yours."

"Excuse me, sir?"

A knot began to form in the pit of William's stomach.

"I want to trust you, Spears, I do. But this decision is out of my hands now. The Great Britain board of generals has decided. If in fact, it is Grell Sutcliff, then you are hardly an unknowing accomplice. I know what you would do to save that man, I know what he means to you. You're my best man in London, but that man clouds your judgment like nothing else I've seen. If you're not involved, you've nothing to fear. But I am going to have to ask you to turn in your scythe."

William let out a breath, lowering his gaze humbly to the floor before he let out a hand beside him. Closing his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, he summoned his scythe of many centuries into his hand, holding it tightly. The crimson grip of the long weapon fit into his hand like nothing else. He felt… vulnerable, for the first time in centuries as his hand slowly raised the pole and placed it gently on the general's desk.

"I'm sorry, Spears."

"Excuse me. ...sir."

William turned on his heel, leaving the office swiftly, closing the door with a near slam behind him. Walking straight past the general's secretary, William didn't slow down until he reached the elevator. When the door closed, he finally let out a weary sigh. The game was over. After so long of hiding it, after so long, it had come to this. But perhaps their time was due. They couldn't just go on breaking the rules without punishment. The system demanded balance and justice, and William had always known that they'd have to pay for their sins someday.

As the elevator made its way back down to the dispatch floor, William's mind recalled when he had first started in London along with Grell. They had been rookies, but they weren't terribly younger than the others in their division. The only real senior they had had was Eric Slingby, who had been in London for at least fifty years before them. It never occurred to him then that it was curious how there weren't any reapers more experienced than Eric in their division when they had arrived. After all, humans had been alive for thousands of years, and reapers themselves were very nearly immortal. The generals were all over five hundred years old, and Mr. Anderson himself was nearly two thousand. But with the exception of the support staff and the higher echelons, there weren't any dispatch members who seemed to stay very long in the work.

Very simply, it drove them all mad. Perhaps if Alan Humphries had not contracted his unfortunate condition, then he and Eric Slingby would still be with them among the dispatch. But it was very clear from the case aboard the Campania and the subsequent incidents that the work did indeed drive reapers to seek an end to their own immortality. The rules were to do the collection coldly and without emotion. It was a ploy to try and keep the mental state of their reapers as sane as possible for as long as possible. But it couldn't be done for long. They were so very human, and yet not like humans at all. Their emotions, their thoughts, their feelings were all too close to humanity. Because if they weren't, they couldn't properly judge them. If a reaper could not sympathize with the man who stole to feed his family, he could not value his life. And if they couldn't value humans, they would never be able to discern which of them were fit to live beyond their scheduled time if necessary.

But being human meant heartache. Being human while being surrounded by death and pain and sadness was miserable. In William's memory, it had driven one reaper to reviving those already gone, another to risk everything to keep his loved one in his life, and another to take life away before the scheduled time out of envy and self-loathing. William laughed a bitter laugh no one else could hear. Their immortality was a joke. They couldn't keep this job forever. At the most, they'd last a few centuries before they were driven to leave it somehow. And now it was their turn.

The elevator gave a soft ding as it arrived on his floor and he stepped out wearily into the bustle of suits. He walked down the hallway towards his division and his office, stopping at Grell's desk where he and Ronald seemed to be having quite the conversation instead of attending to their paperwork. But for once, William hadn't the heart to tell them to get back to work. And as soon as they saw him, Ronald immediately put his head down as if he had been working the whole time, and Grell wrapped his arms around his neck to place a kiss on his lips before whining,

"Oh Will~ Ronnie was just discussing where he's going to take his date tonight. Of course, I don't really care about that, but it did occur to me that it's been a while since you and I went anywhere, and I just thought that you could… oh… forget about overtime today and have a bit of fun with me. I know you don't like to go clubbing with me in the human world, but the parties are so fun, and I haven't been able to dress up in so long, and you would at least enjoy the alcohol."

Ronald gave a nervous laugh before jabbing Grell in the knee with his pen.

"Hahaa… we were talking about work, honest."

William looked between Grell and Ronald and wondered just how long it would be before Ronald too found the work to be too much. So far, the lad seemed to occupy himself between the thighs of enough women to last him at least another century, but there were no guarantees after that. And then he thought about what Grell had just said, and about all the things Grell usually said concerning things that he wanted to do together, things that they should see, they should experience, and all of a sudden, they really did sound grand. After all, William had turned in his scythe, and they were likely dead men. They had very nearly executed Grell when he had been apprehended as Jack the Ripper. No doubt, they would want to finish the job this time. And this time, William wasn't sufficient leverage as he had also participated in the last several cases. Well, participated in covering their tracks.

Knowing they weren't going to come out of this alive if they stayed, a new sort of freedom washed over William. Looking between Knox's paperwork and Grell's beautiful face, a thought occurred to him that his mind would just not let go.

"Paris." he said suddenly, much to the surprise of the other two present.

"What, boss?"

"I'm told that Paris is beautiful this time of year."

Ronald smirked before leaning back in his chair.

"I'm not taking Barbara to Paris for our third date. She'll think I'm trying much too hard to get in her skirt. Plus it's expensive, and I just can't afford spending that much money on one girl when there are so many others waiting in line."

Letting out a self-pleasing laugh, Ronald wiped his eyes before turning his eyes to his superior with a curious look.

"Though… you've never given me dating advice before. What's got Paris on your mind then?"

Turning to Grell, William spoke plainly, as he always did.

"We should go."

Grell let out a flabbergasted look second only to Ron's before sputtering a bit, and then finally speaking.

"I… Wh-What? Us? Go to Paris?"

"Yes. You've always wanted to go."

"Well, sure. Are we going on a mini break sometime soon then?"

Ronald gave out a wolf whistle before pulling out a form from a drawer in his desk.

"Well, I've got a form for ya, if you want."

Keeping his eyes glued on Grell, William also wrapped an arm around Grell's waist, something he never did at work.

"Let's go now."

It was only then that Grell seems to notice the slight urgency in William's tone and looked at him curiously, trying to figure out what had shaken William up so much. Meanwhile, Ronald found it all much too amusing for his own good.

"Well all right, Boss! There's spontaneity for ya! Go on then you two, get out of here!"

Taking Ronald's enthusiasm as an answer in place of Grell, who was looking at him like he were a stranger, William took Grell's hand and together they walked towards the exits, with Ronald jeering after them, still laughing and applauding their daring. Just as they were about to walk out of the door, however, William stopped. Grell thought perhaps that William had had a change of mind, or that he had come back to his senses, and was half-relieved. But William merely turned back, looked at Ronald solemnly, and said to the boy,

"Take care, Knox."

"Sure thing, Boss. I'll cover for ya here."

"No. I mean, take care of yourself."

This gave Ronald pause, and he put down his hand, his smile wiped from his face as he too now looked at William curiously. Certainly he had never seen William behave in this way before, but he hadn't considered it reason to worry until just that moment. It sounded as though he wasn't coming back.

"Well I… I mean… Sure. Yeah. I'll… take care."

And then William nodded once in his direction before turning back around, gripping Grell's hand tightly in his own and a second later, they were gone. Ronald sat back down in his seat, a little bewildered, and wondering if he should go after them.

"…no. They- He… No. No. They'll be back. I must be going mad. It's William T. Spears, he'd never let that much paperwork pile up!"


	3. Paris

Grell couldn't remember the last time she had ever felt so free and pampered. William was letting her do all of the things she wanted. Even shopping. At last she could buy designer brands straight from the source, and she was having a marvelous time. They'd spend their mornings ordering breakfast in bed, then indulge in a bit of Parisian culture. Though it had been William's idea to go to the Louvre on one particular day, Grell had been the one who enjoyed herself the most. Her most favorite paintings and sculptures were all there, she had especially enjoyed the exhibit for Michelangelo.

After a bit of art and culture, they'd grab supper at some little cafe, watch the passerby, and Grell would talk on and on about what she had seen that day and how much she loved it all. She especially loved listening to William find their way around with his French. It was the most romantic thing she had ever heard come out of his mouth, even if it was just asking for directions. After supper, Grell could always manage to get them shopping somehow. This time, she spared no expense. After all, it had been centuries since William had decided that it was all right for them to take a mini break, so who knew when her next chance would be to buy all her favorite brands?

Dinner was always marvelous, always at a neat, sit-down restaurant. Grell would wear some new dress or outfit she'd bought that day, they'd enjoy some fine French cuisine, then they'd usually walk a while through the streets of Paris, enjoying the sight of Paris at night.

After about a week, Grell had so many wonderful memories she decided to try keeping a diary to keep track of them all. There was the view of Paris from the Eiffel Tower at night, there was the moonlit walk on the beach, the night they'd snuck into the basement of the Louvre to see the best pieces, that one cafe with the delicious strawberries and cream crepes, and the one film festival they had seen on one afternoon. But as she sat there writing down all of her wonderful experiences in the hotel room in the evening, William in the shower, she began to wonder just how long they'd be there. William gave no mention of how long they had for their mini break, and he didn't seem to be trying to ration their money for a given amount of time. It was so unlike him. And although Grell was enjoying herself very much, she grew worried with each passing day. William was hiding something.

Just as she thought about asking him what it was, he stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped modestly around his hips and using a second one to wipe down his hair. And all prior worries slipped from her mind as she appreciated the sight of her man standing there half naked in their hotel room. And oh yes. They had made passionate love every night of their stay in Paris, of course. Not always in the hotel room either. But Parisians were hardly better, so their actions were justified in Grell's mind.

Putting her diary aside, she moved from her chair to the bed, draping herself all over it and letting her hair flow wildly everywhere.

"Will darling, what's the plan for tomorrow?"

As he finished wiping down his hair, William placed the towel aside and picked up a brochure from the bedside table, tossing it in Grell's direction.

"There's an opera playing this weekend. Though it's in German."

"Well… German's not nearly as nice sounding as French, but an opera sounds so posh, how could I say no? Especially if I get to see you in a tuxedo!"

William sighed lightly, furrowing one eyebrow up in mild distaste.

"I doubt they'd begrudge my usual suit."

"Oh but Will, we're not even at work, so why would you wear it? Besides, it's all about the mood, the atmosphere… we have to get you a tuxedo tomorrow."

William glanced towards the closet where he had hung up the aforementioned suit and looked at it wryly. It was true, they weren't at work, they'd never be able to return to work again. There was something… unsettling about that. As far back as he had ever known, William's entire life had been devoted to his work. And that was how it was supposed to be. Death gods were born for the sole purpose of their work. So he felt inside that there was a horrible wrongness to what they were doing right now. Even though it was better than death, and he was happy to make Grell happy, he found himself missing it. Maybe not the paperwork, but he had always had a certain amount of pride in his duties and responsibilities. Perhaps Grell didn't feel it as much because he wasn't aware that they were never going back. More than that, he hadn't had his scythe confiscated. It still made William feel naked and vulnerable to think that he could never summon it to him again. Putting on his pajamas and a robe over them, he placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose then headed towards the door, muttering,

"I'm going to get some air."

Then he closed the door behind him and headed towards the elevator, hoping to go up to the roof to think by himself for a while. Grell rolled off of her back onto her stomach on the bed as she heard the door click, calling out just a moment too late.

"Will?"

Frowning for a moment, she deliberated whether or not she should go after him. There were times when she knew that she was being too pushy when William clearly needed some time alone, and they had been glued together this entire past week, but then she had that gnawing feeling again. That feeling that he was hiding something very important from her, and it was not only to protect her, but it was also hurting him as well. Making up her mind, she put on her robe as well and ran after him, catching sight of him just as the elevator door closed. Running towards the elevator, she watched as the numbered lights above the door took William all the way to the top floor without pause. Well, she could either wait for it to come back down, or she could take the stairs. Realizing that she'd need to go up nearly ten stories, she scoffed and folded her arms as she resolved to wait.

"Not bloody likely."

Meanwhile, William had found his way to the roof, which was thankfully not restricted. The cool autumn breeze felt cold on his head with his still-wet hair, and he shivered and pulled his robe a little tighter around himself. Walking to the edge of the roof, he looked out at the city of lights, which certainly lived up to its name. When he looked up, not a single star could be seen overhead.

"…city of lights indeed."

A century and a half ago, it didn't matter how many small flames flickered in the streets, stars could still be seen when one looked up to the midnight sky. But advances in human technology and civilization had led to sprawling urban environments that lit up at night as if to dazzle the sun. They certainly outshone the moon. Grell seemed to revel in such an environment. Personally, William found it a little taxing in large quantities, and he wasn't sure it was an improvement.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of movement, and he turned his head to see reels of cinematic records spiraling up over the tops of the buildings. He hadn't seen any in over a week, and it hadn't occurred to him how strange that was until he felt the nostalgia wash over him in that moment.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Grell's voice sneaked up beside him, but it wasn't the least bit startling. William turned to look and saw Grell's glittering green eyes also fixated on the swirling reels and not the bright city.

"It's just like our first night together."

Grell slipped her arms into William's holding onto him tightly and leaning her head into his shoulder, her eyes twinkling as she looked into the horizon. William turned his head to look at the reels once more, which spun for a few more seconds before being clipped by some reaper dutifully at work, and vanishing into mist. William felt that bittersweet pang in his chest as he thought of the work he had given up. No doubt the London office would be backlogged for weeks because the two of them had run off. They hadn't had a competent supervisor since William came along, and it would be hard for them to find his replacement. The office would be a mess, reports would go amiss, everything would be sloppy, and… And it was no longer his concern. So he tried to tell himself, but it was hard to let go. It had been his sole purpose for existing for centuries and now it was gone, and he tried to convince himself that the new life he would make with Grell in the human world would have to be enough. It had to be.

He felt a tug on his arm as Grell began to pull him back inside.

"I'm cold, let's go back inside. You can warm me up and be as rough as you were with me back then~"

Ronald leaned back in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk as he waited for the clock to chime for his lunch break. Ever since William and Grell had taken off, the general had been hounding their asses to make up the extra work. Ron couldn't thank them for that. He couldn't even get away with sneaking off for elevenses anymore, and that was absolute murder.

"What do you mean you haven't found them yet!"

He heard the General shouting and slamming his hands on his desk in his office, and he quickly put his feet down and hunched over his desk to make it appear as though he were working. Over the past week, Ronald had learned that his two seniors were in some major trouble for taking off the way they did. Well, that much he could have guessed, but the General seemed more worked up than he needed to be, in Ron's opinion. Muttering to himself, he twirled a pen between his fingers.

"Oh pipe down, they just went on a mini-break…"

Again, the general's voice came echoing out from behind the door.

"It's been a week! At this rate, we'll never find them!"

At that, Ronald stopped twirling his pen and wondered briefly if maybe the situation was more serious than he had believed it to be. Now the general was making it sound as if they weren't coming back. But that couldn't… Why would they…

His mind flashed to a couple of centuries back to a time when he hadn't been in the division for more than a few decades. His seniors Eric Slingby and Alan Humphries had run away too. Well, they hadn't realized that until they had found Eric in that opera house and realized then that he had been responsible for the missing souls. It was a bit of a shock, but in an instant, Ronald had understood why Eric would do such a thing. He was trying to look out for Alan, but work was work. They needed to be brought in. Ronald thought that the generals would maybe overlook it a bit. They had slapped Grell with a mere suspension for when he had gone on a killing spree for the sake of a human. If Eric had done it to save another fellow reaper, he felt that they'd be about as lenient with Eric as they had been with Grell. But they never got to them in time. The next they'd heard… they were both dead.

Ronald hadn't thought much about those two since then. For a little while afterwards, he had missed Eric some. He was great to take to parties, paid for drinks often, nice guy, had helped Ronald out when he had first started… But there hadn't been time to miss them. The day after, there was work. And after that, more work. And after the work, there were parties to go to, and girls to meet. Perhaps Ronald was shallow and insensitive for forgetting about them so quickly, but grieving wasn't going to bring them back, and he felt that he hadn't known them particularly well. Maybe if he had, he'd have known what Eric was up to. They all would have known.

But it was different this time. This time it was William and Grell. And he knew them better, and he could even dare to call them friends. He liked them, he and Grell had loads of fun teasing each other and teasing the boss together. And the few times he went on assignments with William hadn't been bad either, at least they could always get things done efficiently so that they could avoid overtime. The two of them had even gotten him home nice and sound after he'd gotten a bit too drunk during staff parties a few times.

He wondered if he could learn to forget them as quickly as he had tried to forget Eric and Alan if it was true that they wouldn't be returning. But he barely had time to think about it, because the General came storming out of the office with two other reapers who had come from another division, charged with finding his two seniors. Ronald rued the day he had ever thought of William as a slave driver. General Pierce was much much worse.

"What are you lot staring at, back to work, all of you!"

Ronald groaned aloud and slumped his head onto his desk, muttering to himself,

"But it's nearly lunch!"

"What was that, Knox?"

Ronald sat up immediately at the sound of the general's voice booming over him and let out a nervous laugh, hoping to get off the hook with his charmingly cute smile. The glare told him it wasn't working, and a small corner of Ronald's brain told him to damn it all. So he leaned back in his chair, feeling defiant from his hunger and said,

"Why are you looking for them so hard anyhow? It's not like they're not coming back."

Well, he wasn't so sure of that last part, but he hoped that the general would deny his fear if he asked it that way. The general looked at him disdainfully, not used to such blatant defiance and straightened his tie.

"That shows how much you know then about your colleagues. Those two have violated several rules and regulations, and prior to their sentencing, ran off together. It was clearly the influence of that redheaded maniac. I was a fool to let him off the hook that easily those centuries ago."

Ronald could barely believe what he was hearing. Had Grell run off and played Jack the Ripper again? And how had William been involved? He knew the two of them were eccentric as a couple, but he could never believe that William would knowingly allow it to happen again. More than that, he didn't think the boss could ever personally be involved with-

"Rubbish. Boss would never-"

"Oh? And you know them that well, do you?"

Ronald was slightly taken aback. Truth be told, yes, he thought he did. But it was also true that no matter how he might have considered them all friends, it wasn't likely for them to tell him that they'd been out collecting when they shouldn't have been. Frowning, he accepted some small amount of defeat that perhaps he hadn't been privy to as much of his colleague's lives as he felt he should have been. But even if he had known, what then? Would he have turned them in? Would he have been able to convince them not to do it for their own safety? He recalled William's words as he had left, instructing him to take care, and perhaps this was what he meant. The boss didn't want him to turn out like they had. And then he remembered what had happened to Eric and Alan, and he knew he didn't want to let that happen again.

"…so don't look for them then."

"Excuse me?"

"You said it yourself, they're probably long gone by now. Just let 'em go, they won't do any harm now."

A vein twitched in the general's brow, and he looked over his glasses at Ronald like he wanted nothing more than to pound his face into his desk.

"The last time we let a rogue reaper run free because we thought he had gone into seclusion, we ended up with rampaging zombies in the human world. You dealt with that case specifically, as I recall."

"Well- yeah, but they're not like that cooky old-"

"And you know so much about them that you can say this with absolute certainty? When they didn't even tell you what they were doing or that they were leaving?"

Ronald couldn't argue. Even though he knew in his gut that they wouldn't turn out into crazed fanatics like that silver-haired creep had been, he couldn't argue with the general's logic. Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, he looked down at his desk, falling silent.

Had the conversation ended then and there, Ronald would have been spared more of the general's taunts and scoldings. But unfortunately for Ronald, an idea occurred to the General just then. A cruel and brilliant idea that he wasn't above implementing to get the results he wanted. Removing his glasses, he blew a speck of dust off of them before placing a reassuring hand on Ron's shoulders, suddenly meaning to be a comforting counselor.

"Excuse me, Knox, I've been insensitive. I should have realized how much those two mean to you."

Ronald did not answer. He didn't like where this conversation was going.

"You do understand why we have to apprehend them, don't you. It's for their own good. And I'm sure you want to know that they're all right, wherever they are."

When Ronald still did not answer, General Pierce leaned in a tad closer, patting Ronald on the back and using an even gentler tone of voice.

"No one knows them like you do, Knox. You were their closest friend. And if you care about them at all… Then you'll help us find them."

And there it was. Ronald knew it was going to head down that manipulative line of lies to try and get him to betray them.

"What are their sentences?"

"That's not important. What is important is that we find them before they cause any more trouble."

"…I won't help you."

"Pardon?" The General was not used to hearing no as an answer.

"They're long gone, I don't know where they are. And I don't want to help you find them so you can murder 'em yourself."

Losing his temper, the General shoved Ronald back into his chair violently, then placed both of his hands on the armrests, trapping Ronald in his seat. Towering over him, he practically growled at the reaper.

"Your insolence alone is enough to warrant two weeks of unpaid suspension, do you understand? I was trying to be civil about the matter, but clearly neither you nor anyone else in this incompetent division listens to reason. So let me make this abundantly clear. You don't have a choice in this matter. I'm putting you on the search team, and you will, whether you like it or not, help us find them."

Ronald glared back, not willing to back down from this. If the stupid old man was going to put him on the search team, then that was fine. Then he could keep an eye out for them and keep the stupid higher-ups off of their tail. And that was fine enough for now.

As Grell and William walked slowly back to their hotel room after a full evening of events, Grell was lightly humming to herself the last aria of the opera. It had been absolutely splendid. It was a shame the death god realm could never come up with entertainment as good as what the humans could do. Grell liked to imagine that if she were human, she could have been a prima donna for some famous opera herself. Never mind that she had never had a real talent for singing. But that train of thought soon got her thinking about the death god realm again, and once again she began to wonder if and when they would head back. Perhaps now was the time to talk about it.

"Say… Will?"

William merely gave a nod of his chin in her direction to indicate that he was listening.

"I've loved being in Paris with you, really, it's been… heavenly. But you still haven't mentioned when we're heading back."

William stopped walking, his eyes falling onto the sidewalk beneath his feet. Closing his eyes, he quietly whispered,

"We're not ever going back."

"What?"

"We can't. They'll kill us."

Grell let go of William's arm and took a couple of steps back and away from him, her eyes wide and her mind swarming with questions.

"Were we caught? How can you know that's what they'll do? Why didn't you tell me this from the start?"

For a long time, William didn't answer, but he knew he couldn't avoid the question any longer. They had had their week of fun, he had given Grell the most enjoyment he knew how to give. Now it was time for both of them to face the harsh reality ahead of them.

"They were going to kill you last time, remember? But I convinced them not to do it, and I used myself as a bargaining chip back then. Well this time, I couldn't do that. I was an accomplice, I helped you by editing the records, I filed the faulty reports, and they noticed. They noticed the records had been tampered with, they confiscated my scythe because they suspected both of us, and it's obvious what they're going to do, isn't it? After Slingby and that rogue death god from the ship, they're not going to take any chances now. That's why we have to run. We have no choice, if we want to live."

Grell listened hard as William spoke and after he had finished speaking, she took a while to gather her own thoughts. These were the consequences she had so feared. Maybe in some small corner of her heart she knew that they'd catch up to her eventually, but she had never meant to drag down William with her like this. She had made him give up everything now. William, who held such pride and value in being a death god had left it all behind for this chance for the two of them to continue living. He was trying to protect her, as he always did.

"Will… I'm sorry. I never meant for you to- it was always going to be me. You didn't have to- to come with me."

"It's done. There's no going back now. But I wanted to give you this week at least of relief before… Before we spend the rest of our lives on the run, constantly looking over our shoulders."

Grell felt her heart breaking, she wanted to cry and run into William's arms, begging for forgiveness. A part of her wanted to march straight into the high court of reapers and prostrate herself before them if they would promise to give William his life back. He didn't deserve any of this. But he had chosen it just for her. All this, all because he loved her despite her madness, her instability. He was the one constant in her fickle heart, immovable and everlasting. And as always, he was right. It was done. She couldn't take it back. She wouldn't. So she took his hand and brought it up to her lips, kissing it gently before smiling up at him.

"Thank you, Will… For everything. We'll run as far as we can together."

Then she embraced William tightly, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing hard as though he would vanish any instant. The bells were ringing in her ears again, and she felt a shadow that she hadn't felt in a very long time. No longer a god of death, death was chasing their heels now. She felt a cold fear grip her, but still she would fight it. She would fight it tooth and nail to her dying breath, she would not be extinguished so easily.

"Let's leave Paris. Tonight."

William kissed the top of Grell's head in reassurance, knowing that Grell was trying hard not to be frightened. William had been given the past week to try and accept that he was no longer a reaper. For Grell, it would take a little bit longer now. But he understood, and whispered into the night,

"I hear Venice is sinking."

Grell let out a light laugh into William's chest, burying herself close and savoring his warmth.

"Then we'd best go see it before it does."


	4. Venice

Grell had never before felt such intense heat in all her life, and no amount of self-fanning was going to make it any cooler for her as she sat by the waterside. A young couple approached her around that time, some Austrian tourists, and they tried to speak to her in very broken Italian, requesting a gondola ride. Looking out at the water, she could see a crimson gondola with black accents in the distance, rowing back at a leisurely pace, and she turned back to the happy couple, speaking in English.

"It'll be another half hour or so, darlings, and it'll be thirty euros."

The woman gasped with delight at Grell's English as she placed a hand over her brow to shield her eyes from the sun.

"Oh, are you from England?"

"Sort of…"

Grell might have been from the London dispatch office of reapers, but she didn't really consider herself a British native. Such national alliances made her sound too human, in her mind. But her current behavior wasn't exactly in the style of an all-powerful death god. Working to earn a small living in Venice? She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

"I've been to London once before on a business trip." said the man as he pulled out a small wad of euros from his pocket. "Lovely people, but a little too much rain for my taste." He handed the euros to Grell with a smile and then moved into some nearby shade.

Grell had to admit that London did have its fair share of rainy days, but she rather liked them, especially when compared to the beating hot Mediterranean sun. She was even starting to tan a little, and had already gotten sunburn on her shoulders. Her hair protected the back of her neck mostly, but it was too hot to wear it down all the time, so she decided to opt for a ponytail and a giant hat. Actually, giant hats were quite the trend among all the tourists who passed through. The Austrian woman in front of her was also wearing one.

"I rather liked it," she remarked, slightly bored.

She had gotten used to having to make small talk with her customers, but it was always the same drivel. Where they were from, where she was from, how long they had been in Italy, if she could recommend a good place to eat that evening… the same old conversations dragged on and on, and none of the people were the least bit interesting to Grell. She'd seen all manner of humans and human life, what they did and how they did it… and the rich, privileged tourists she encountered endlessly were the most boring even if they were the most glamorous. The woman was sporting a sinfully large diamond ring on her left hand that glittered in the sun. The ring looked fairly new, and Grell could guess that they were newlyweds on their honeymoon. Somehow, those types irked her the most.

"We're here on our honeymoon," the woman boasted gleefully.

"I gathered," Grell tried not to sound too disdainful. After all, they were paying customers.

"We wondered for ages where to go. Some of our friends suggested Paris, but of course, everyone goes to Paris. Some said Berlin, but we had already been before, and we wanted something new and exciting. Then someone suggested Venice, joking that it was sinking, and we had never been to Venice before, so we came to see."

Grell tried not to roll her eyes. If she had a euro for every time a tourist used that phrase on her… it had sounded much better when William had said it to her six months ago. Especially before they realized that they would have to sneak around to get from Paris to Venice without any of the cumbersome human inconveniences. They didn't have identification, passports, and all the other human frivolities. As such, it had taken them a few weeks to travel by any means of transportation they could find to Venice, since they couldn't go back to the death god realm to make use of their transporters. Throughout their long transit, Grell had bitterly thought that Venice had better be worth all the trouble, but she had been sorely disappointed. Oh, it was a beautiful city, but she couldn't enjoy it as a visitor, because they had needed to find work to sustain themselves.

"It's a beautiful city, so vibrant!"

Grell peeked out at the water and was relieved to see the gondola about to pull up to the harbor, the handsome gondolier casting out a line to steady and tie the boat.

"Excuse me."

She ducked away from her greeting station to go out to the dock just as the previous guests got off to plant a kiss on William's sweating brow.

"Two more. Newlyweds. God, I hate them."

William looked past Grell to see them waving to him in the shade before they started heading over.

"They look like big tippers."

Grell rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "The rich, stupid ones always are."

Before they could get too close, she gave William a teasing grope on his backside before she joked, "Make their ride a short one and come back soon, kay? You need some rest, anyhow."

William took a swig from his water jug, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his bandana before turning to greet his new passengers. Grell turned to offer them a terribly insincere smile.

"This is William, he'll be your gondolier. The best around~" she boasted as she sneaked a glance at his rippling arms. The one thing she did love about this job was William's new uniform. Short, rolled up sleeves, shirts that clung to him as he sweat from the labor, and his hair was no longer kept back. Now that got her hot and bothered in all the right ways.

William steadied the gondola by the harbor while the two boarded, though the woman was having a mild amount of trouble. William thought to himself how it might be a great deal easier if she would just remove her gigantic stiletto heels, but she was adamant to keep them on. He would never understand the things that people did for fashion's sake. Once they were properly seated, he untied the rope and set off as Grell blew a kiss from the mooring. The woman took notice and as soon as they were out of earshot, she remarked,

"I didn't realize this was a couple's business. How long have you two been doing this work?"

William rowed steadily out, eyes in front. He had grown very used to answering this question as many of his passengers took note of Grell's behavior.

"Only a few months."

"Ahh, I see. You are both from Britain?"

"…yes."

"I see it is true what they say, British men are so very handsome!"

William fought the urge to roll his eyes. This one was a talker. Hurriedly he tried to change the topic so that he could properly do his job as a gondolier.

"Yes, well… Ahem. If you look to your left, you'll see the Baroque Ca' Rezzonico, a museum dedicated to the Venice of the 18th century. Inside can be found numerous paintings by Pietro Longhi, Francesco-"

"Oh darling! Look how beautiful it is!"

William sighed inwardly. It didn't matter what he said, it was clear she wasn't going to pay much attention or even let him finish talking. But it was just as well. It meant that he didn't necessarily have to talk or explain as much, and since his voice was tiring for the day, he could appreciate the respite. Though he did wish she would stop rocking the boat so much. The woman was very excitable and tended to jump with joy and lean heavily over the side of the gondola when she found something of interest.

"Madam, if you could please refrain from- if you could please keep your hands inside the gondola."

"Oh the birds are so cute! Have you got some crumbs we can throw at them?"

"No miss, we are forbidden from feeding the birds. If you could just-"

The husband was absolutely no help. He merely laughed and looked at his wife adoringly as if every little thing she did were the most lovely thing a creature could do. Really, it was irksome and troubling, and-

"Ah!"

William's eyes shot open as the sound of a splash reached his ears, and for a split second, he had the dire thought that his passenger had managed to fall into the water. But when he opened his eyes, he saw only that she was holding a hand to her mouth, pointing her hand out to the water. When William turned to look, he saw that a motorized gondola had accidentally veered into another. The non-motorized gondola had been overturned, its family of guests and the gondolier splashing about in the water, angry and upset.

The gondolier was shouting abuse to the other driver, while the husband helped his struggling wife to the overturned gondolier, allowing her to cling to it for support. It was evident she couldn't really swim.

"Shouldn't we go over and help them?"

William rolled his eyes at the thought, but she had a point. It was extremely difficult to turn a gondola back over, and the guests shouldn't be kept waiting in the water. He was also the only other gondola close enough to offer any assistance.

"Would you mind having other passengers on your ride?"

He felt it was only polite to offer them the option of just moving on.

"Oh please! We have to help that boy!"

The young lady was frantically waving at the water now, and William looked back over to see something he had missed before. A good distance away, a young boy was struggling to stay afloat, probably also unable to swim. The gondolier's shouting was drowning out the boy's barely audible cries for help, and his mother was so distraught she was near tears so her husband had no ears for his son. Realizing immediately that the situation was more dire than he had thought, he dived into the water, swimming as fast as he could towards the young boy.

Had William stopped to assess the situation completely, perhaps by looking out of the water overhead, he would have noticed the reaper standing by patiently to reap the young boy. The man now raised an eyebrow at the unscheduled rescue, checking his ledger to make sure he hadn't gotten the name and location wrong. As he looked into it, the ledger automatically updated itself with a new date, time, and location for the young boy's passing, and he narrowed his eyes at the change.

In the water, William was only a few strokes away from the boy when he could no longer stay above the water, sinking below its surface as his tired limbs gave up the struggle to stay afloat, his body filling with water. Diving beneath the surface, William kicked his legs as fast he could go to reach the boy beneath the water. Grabbing the boy around the waist, William held the boy close to his frame as he kicked hard to reach the surface. Once at the top, he inhaled deep breaths as he worked hard to keep the boy's head afloat above the water's surface. He heard the sound of his mother crying out her son's name and turned to swim in that direction, as the young boy clung to him tight, having regained some consciousness. As soon as the boy was in arm's reach of his mother, she reached out to pull him close to her, frantically kissing his face and head as she apologized profusely for not noticing his distress.

Some time afterwards, both gondolas had managed to get themselves sorted out with everyone safely out of the water. The family thanked William several times over for his service to them, and even their gondolier was thankful to him that no one had died on his shift due to his own carelessness. As they finally let him go, a voice behind him spoke to him in an Italian accent.

"That was very brave, what you did."

William turned to find a man with striking green eyes, wearing a black suit and glasses address him. William knew in an instant that he was face to face with a reaper, and hurriedly he lowered his gaze not wanting this reaper to see his own eyes, a matching green.

"Yes… it was nothing." He muttered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to return to my own guests." The young couple was waiting patiently on the gondola out in the water, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves regardless.

"And why is reaper like yourself saving this young human boy?"

Shit. William looked up to meet the other reaper's eyes. There was no hiding it now.

"This is my shift, I was not told there would be other reaper here."

"Well-"

"You come from England? They send you here to work? Where is your uniform? That boy was scheduled to die. You change his life."

"Yes, well… there was some intel, and I was transferred somewhat abruptly."

"And this clothes?"

"Blending in with the populace. Wearing the standard uniform among the humans like this makes one stand out quite a bit. Especially in summer in Venice. I'm sorry you weren't informed about this case. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to return those humans to the shore and finish up my investigation."

Excusing himself, William walked swiftly away from the Italian reaper, knowing that as soon as he returned the gondola to its dock, he and Grell would have to find somewhere else to go. Venice was no longer safe.

* * *

Ronald twirled his pen between his fingers, reclining in a chair as General Pierce shouted at the little rag-tag team of three, still angry that they hadn't found their runaway reapers. Ronald sighed. It had been about half a year now since their disappearance, and the General was facing pressure and criticism from the other higher-ups for not being able to find them. Ronald hoped that they'd give up with enough time passing with no results. And if, in the future, they found that the two of them were running rampant and causing trouble with some scheme, then Ronald would find it understandable to bring them in.

In the meantime, he found it amusing to tag along in the wild goose chase and laugh at the others' frustration. He was absolutely no help at all, and had even placed a few fake leads for them to follow. Not that he really needed to, William and Grell were doing a splendid job of lying low and out of the way. Among the billions and billions of humans in the world, it was too easy for them to blend in.

"Of all the useless, incompetent, how hard can it be to find them?"

"Well, sir, we-"

"Quiet!"

When he heard a snigger from Ronald's direction, he turned to the young reaper then, his anger rising.

"And am I to guess that you two idiots were taking advice from this bloody fool? Where did you let him lead you last? Taipei? Did that seem reasonable to either the lot of you?"

"Sir, we-"

"What!?"

"Well we've… we've got some intel in this morning that we were going to follow up."

Ronald's ears perked.

"The Italian dispatch sent us a fax asking if we've dispatched any of the British staff in for any special cases. Apparently, a reaper in Venice saved a little boy from drowning even though it was against schedule. The description matches that of William Spears, minus the gondolier uniform. It's a long shot, but it's the best lead we've got right now."

Ronald frowned. It could be them, but at the same time, he wondered why William would ever be caught dead in a gondolier's uniform. More than that, why would he have interfered with a scheduled reaping by saving a boy's life? They should be keeping a low profile, not getting themselves noticed. But the General had latched onto the idea, and was demanding that they go, swiftly and quietly. As Ronald was shoved out of his chair, he could only hope that the information was about some other British dispatch employee who liked to muck things up. I mean, the Welsh were bloody crazy sometimes...


	5. Water to Blood

Venice in the late evening was filled with stray wandering couples. Holding hands, sneaking kisses in shadows, strolling slowly without a care in the world… Ronald almost wished he had brought along a date. But of course now was not the time for such thoughts. After all, he was in Venice for the worst possible reason: the actual apprehension of his two seniors, who had run away six months ago. Crouching on the edge of the rooftop he was standing on, Ronald rested his hands on his knees, moping. He didn't want it to be true. He didn't want them to be here in Venice. He didn't want to have to be the one to bring them in and escort them to their death sentence.

"Hey. Keep a better lookout."

One of the other two reapers, Thomas nudged him in the back with his knee, bringing Ronald out of his thoughts. He groaned and fell back on his butt, leaning back on his hands and whining as only he knew how.

"Why are we staking out this late at night anyway? If they're living human lives like everyone says, they're not going to sneak out at night. Humans travel during the day mostly."

"We've got our orders."

"Tch."

Ronald hated orders. Well, he hated stupid ones. William ordered them around all the time, sure, but it was usually because he was actually goofing off and not doing his work, or because he hadn't balanced his soul ledger properly… Damn it. He was thinking about them again. More than he wanted to admit, he missed them. And it was all the more reason to hope that he'd never see them again.

But just as he thought that, a couple stepped out from one of the townhouse buildings, carrying luggage bags and looking rather suspicious. The man was tall and lean, the woman was wearing a giant hat, underneath which Ronald saw a shining glimmer of red.

"Oi, they look suspicious." Thomas called out to his partner, Stephen.

Ronald felt his heart catch in his throat, a cold chill seizing him and he knew. He just knew it was them. He could never forget how those two walked, how they carried themselves, how they carried themselves around each other… But he didn't know how to stop the other two from checking them out. And before he could even think of a plausible reason to halt them, they had taken off, landing in the alleyway below, walking in the couple's direction. What choice did Ronald have but to follow?

William had taken out his keys to start up his scooter, Grell loading their luggage on the back when he heard the clacking of business shoes approach them. He looked up to find two death gods walking up to them, a glance of Ronald Knox in tow behind them, and he inhaled a deep breath.

"William T. Spears and Grell Sutcliff."

They spoke out their names not as a question. They knew upon closer inspection that they were the right ones. It wouldn't do any good to try and deny it.

"We've been looking for you two a long time."

He felt Grell tense behind him, looking at the other two with disdain and anger, but not fear. Only William was afraid. He didn't have his scythe, couldn't summon it to him, and he weighed the options in his head. On the one hand, they could go peacefully and quietly back to the death god realm for sentencing and a hurried execution. But he wouldn't be able to convince Grell of that, so perhaps their only true option was fight and flight. He didn't want to kill them, and he wasn't convinced that Grell wouldn't. He especially didn't want to fight young Knox, who looked very much as though he didn't want to be a part of any of this.

"Please come with us quietly, this doesn't have to be difficult."

"Like hell!"

William heard Grell rev up his chainsaw behind him and wearily he closed his eyes, feeling his body tense for the fight.

Rushing past him, Grell swung the whirring blades at the death god closest to them, who jumped back in surprise and immediately summoned his own scythe to him, a traditional, long-handled one with a sickle-shaped blade. William ran past the others towards the dock, grabbing hold of two oars out of the nearby gondolas, gripping them tight and ready. His eyes locked with Ronald for an instant, before the other reaper came rushing at him with a hacksaw.

Ronald looked between the two pairs of combatants with worry, and he felt his heart grow tight with the idea that he'd have to fight his two friends. But what choice did he have? If he helped them, that'd be like signing up to run away with them. If he went back, they'd likely punish him too for aiding two such wanted fugitives, and he wasn't willing to give up his entire way of life for those two. He cared about them deeply, more than he ever wanted to admit, but not enough to sacrifice his purpose in life to save them. Painfully he summoned his own scythe to him, which felt heavy and bulky for the first time in his life. As he kickstarted the engine, the sound of the motor sickened him, when before he had only ever loved the sound of it. With William's scythe confiscated, he turned his attention to Grell, hoping that maybe he could get through to the more violent of his superiors, but the one he was closest to.

Grell was fighting with a fury she had never fought with before. Normally, she loved the thrill of battle, and she loved being able to test her skills with whomever. She loved to hear her scythe roar and tear through everything in its path, she loved the rush of combat, the thrill of danger. But not tonight. Not now. This fight was purely for her and William's survival. She couldn't let anything to chance, she wasn't about to be taken away in chains, humiliated, stripped of her scythe, she wouldn't let it happen. She wouldn't! Moving faster than she ever had, she dodged the other reaper's attacks like they were nothing, while he could barely hold his own against her barrage of attacks. Though he was nervous and his movements indicated fear, he wasn't in the least bit unskilled.

But leaping overhead, she landed behind him and whirled around to gut him in the back, but he turned only just fast enough to put up his scythe between hers and his body. The impact sent him flying into the wall of the nearest building, and Grell rushed forward, keen to finish the job while he was down.

A flash of red obscured her vision for a moment and then she stood face to face with little Ronald. Her Ronnie. Try as she might, she couldn't deny that she had a soft spot for him and didn't want to hurt him.

"Grell, please." He almost never called her by name like that.

"Out of my way, Ronald." And she almost always called him Ronnie.

"I don't want to fight you." His eyes pleaded with her to just run, just go. "But I don't think you ought to kill these guys. They're just doing their job."

"Like you? Are you just doing your job?" she spat at him, angry that he would stand in her way, that he wouldn't understand how they were fighting for their lives here.

Ronald gave her such a pitiful, sad look, but Grell pushed it out of her mind and charged forward, swinging her scythe, though her heart wasn't behind her blade at all.

Meanwhile, William was keeping the reaper at bay, the oars not giving him as much reach as he was used to fighting with, but it was enough. The reaper's hacksaw had less reach than he did, so he could keep his distance well enough, but he had already lost an oar when he brought it up to defend against an earlier slash. There was nothing a reaper's scythe couldn't cut, except another reaper's scythe. That being said, William had sparred with Grell enough times in the past to not fear a weapon as inelegant as a hacksaw.

Ronald countered Grell's blows as best he could, knowing that his friend was going easy on him. Thomas groaned as he came back to consciousness, feeling that a couple of his ribs had definitely fractured. Opening his eyes, he saw Grell and Ronald struggling against each other, and slowly, he struggled to his feet, knowing that he couldn't last too long in this fight. Trying to gather his bearings, he kept his eyes out for an opening, any opening in Grell's stance in which to attack. The General had told them to bring them in dead or alive, and at this point, if he didn't fight to kill, he wouldn't be able to stay alive.

Dodging another swinging side blow from the hacksaw, William ducked and swung the oar out as hard as he could, catching his opponent in the gut, and flinging him far out and away above the water. The reaper fell into the water with a splash, and William breathed a momentary sigh of relief, hoping he could use this distraction to grab Grell and make their escape. Turning to see how the redhead was faring, he saw the whirring blades of Ronald's lawnmower and Grell's chainsaw clashing, the metal sending sparks and the smell of exhaust everywhere. But his eyes also caught sight of the other reaper, leaning against his scythe against the wall, looking for an opening.

William's eyes widened as he saw the other reaper gripping his scythe tight, everything in his stance screaming that he was about to attack.

It was over in an instant, but it felt long and drawn out to Will. He had dropped his oar, running fast, his heart pounding in his head. The reaper swung his scythe down. William stretched out his hands, pushing Grell out of the way. Their eyes met for a moment, just a moment, and then William felt the scythe piercing through his back, the tip running straight through his stomach. He felt the blood run up his throat, trickle out of his mouth and down his lips, his body growing cold.

A bright light flashed before his eyes, and he remembered everything. Everything. All of his centuries of existence… the first time he had met Grell, the memories from Thomas Wallace, his first pair of glasses from Big Daddy, his first kiss, the first night he and Grell had made love, he remembered every curve of Grell's body, every sensation they had ever experienced together in their heated nights of passion… He remembered Grell's tears, his smiles, his grace, his clumsiness, his mania, and his love. He remembered those staff parties he hated, the overtime he dreaded, the demons who had ever caused him trouble. But every time, every moment, every episode in the reels of his life always came back around to the same pair of green eyes, the same head of flaming red hair…

His vision swam red, blood obscuring his view. In the distance, he heard Grell's feint cries, calling out his name, fingers clutching his face. He forced himself to look at Grell, to focus on those beautiful green eyes, flooding with tears… to focus on the way his hair fell perfectly around him, the silky strands falling on his face and feeling like feathers on his skin…

"Will? Will! William, don't you dare, don't you DARE do this to me! No, no… oh god, no… William… you can't… you just can't… you promised! No! No…"

Grell fell apart, a sobbing heap above William's now lifeless body, clutching hard at his shirt, and crying out as loud as she knew how. Her wails filled the air around them, echoing her pain, her sorrow. The only man who had ever loved her… the only man who could ever understand her… maybe even better than she had ever understood herself. He was the only man to accept her, to stand by her, he had always been there. Always. She would never know such love again, and she would never see his smile or feel his embrace, and the weight of her loss was more than any loss any human could ever feel. Humans lost their lovers after a mere few decades. How could that compare to the pain of losing someone after so many centuries? They had had lifetimes together, shared so much more than humans ever could, they had pushed their limits farther than anyone would ever dare try.

She looked at her hands, covered in William's blood, and it was the first time she had ever thought to herself how ghastly it looked, the first time in her life that she thought to herself that she would never want to see red. Not this red. Not like this.

Her eyes shot up, and she glared at the reaper who had taken William's life with a hatred she had never felt, not even against herself. He looked at her with utter terror in his face, and before he could even register that she had moved, his head was flying off into the distance, his expression frozen in a state of perpetual terror. But it wasn't enough. She slashed again and again at his lifeless body, blood spraying everywhere and dyeing her clothes, the street, everything was red, but for the first time, she hated it. She hated every bit of it. Her arms grew heavy from the reckless way she was swinging her scythe around so she dropped it, still screaming and crying, clawing at the man's shredded skin, ripping at his intestines, drenching herself in more of that hateful blood, more of that detestable red…

And then her limbs grew tired and she buried her face in her hands, her tears mixing with the blood on them. She didn't want to live alone. Eternity was too long, all too long if it meant she couldn't have William by her side.

Ronald felt his heart breaking. He had never wanted so bad to be anywhere else, to have been anyone else. He didn't want to hurt his friends, he didn't want to see them die before his eyes.

"Ron…" Grell whispered feebly.

"Yeah?" Ronald's reply was quiet, broken.

"Kill me."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters. But I… I still don't want to give them the satisfaction."

"B-but, I can't… You're my friend, I-"

"Kill me now. Or I swear I will take my scythe, go straight back to London, and take my revenge there. I will kill as many of them as I can for what they did to us, you know I will. But I will give you this one chance to stop me. …and let me be with Will."

She turned and grasped the scythe that killed her beloved, holding the blade to her throat, as if laying her head silently beneath a guillotine. She shut her eyes, giving up on everything. She didn't know if oblivion was all that waited. Did reapers even have souls? It didn't matter.

"Please, Ronnie. For me."

Sobbing silently, Ronald gripped the handle of the blade, his hands shaking and his body unsteady.

And the waters of Venice ran as blood.


	6. Epilogue

"Ronald? Ronald! …Ron!"

"Huh? What is it babe?"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"What? Oh, yeah, of course, doll."

"…then what did I just say?"

"Uhh…"

"I knew it, you weren't listening at all. What's wrong with you lately?"

Ronald looked away from the pretty girl sitting at his desk down to his paperwork, untouched and piling up. He hadn't talked to anyone about last week's incident, though everyone on his dispatch floor knew well what happened. The girls in other departments had no idea, and it was sometimes a welcome respite knowing that they'd never look at him with those pitiful gazes like his coworkers did. Other times, it was just as hard knowing that they'd never understand what he'd lost.

"It's uh… just… work stuff. I'll make it up to you later Janette."

"It's Robin."

"…what?"

"My name, is Robin. Ugh! Forget it!"

Then hopping off of his desk with a huff, she clacked her heels right on out of there and Ronald sighed heavily, burying his face in his arms on the desk.

"…damn."

Now he had chased away his night's company with his moping. Maybe if he apologized to her before the end of the day, she'd be all right with him. After all, it was only 11 in the morn-

Jumping out of his chair, Ronald dashed out of the office, hurrying towards the elevators as fast as his legs would carry him. He had forgotten that he had to show around the new recruits today as a senior reaper. He wasn't really in the mood to show around a bunch of fledglings, but damn it all, maybe it would keep his mind out of himself for a little while.

Skidding into the room where the young reapers were waiting, he hurriedly fixed his tie and whipped back his hair as he tried to give a nonchalant wink and a nod to the new batch.

"Hey all, I'm Ronald Knox, and I'll be showing you the ropes of our division today. Uhh… we'll go by the various departments, I'll tell you what they're about, and even drop in on the glasses department towards the end there. Um… Any questions to start?"

A skinny little guy with freckles tentatively raised his hand.

"Uhh… Mr. Knox, sir, how long have you been a reaper?"

Ronald let out a nervous chuckle as he scratched his head. "Well, uh… a few centuries by now, I guess."

Murmurs of surprise ran through the crowd immediately as he said it.

"You don't look it at all! …sir." Another one off to the side with blond hair spoke up with a joking laugh.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment, then. So uh… let's get moving, shall we?"

Moving the bustling group about, Ronald felt too old for his age. All of them so young, their eyes full of expectant hope for their new jobs, most of them were happy to get started, he could tell. But Ronald couldn't remember ever feeling that excited to work. Even when he was a student and everyone else around him was so excited to begin their duties as a reaper, he had remained the lazy ass who didn't want to take up that responsibility ever. Sure the perks were great, he loved his lawnmower, his glasses, the girls… but he felt the burden was actually somewhat too heavy. Maybe he was just ill-suited for the life.

"So uh… as you know, it's our job to collect human souls at their time of death, review their cinematic records, and judge them. We gotta make sure no one's dying too early. Very occasionally, someone will come along who could change the course of human history, so we gotta allow them the chance to do that if their time was too soon. The uh… the sanctity and gravity of human life is one we have to understand."

The scrawny one spoke up again.

"Have you ever judged someone who was special enough to let live, sir?"

"Hm? Oh, uh… no. Not that I can remember. Like I said, they're pretty rare, but it's still our job to check."

"That sounds like a lot of responsibility." he heard one murmur.

Somehow, Ronald couldn't let that lie. Turning around swiftly on his heel to face them, he suddenly gave them an oddly serious expression, and spoke to them truly and honestly.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're absolutely right. It's a tremendous responsibility. It's gonna be hard, and sometimes it'll be boring, but sometimes it'll get you right in the gut when you're least expecting it. We're above humans, but sometimes, it's easy to forget that. Sometimes, you can get too involved or obsessed. That's why you gotta do your job, but not take it too seriously all the time. All right? Because it's heavy, you gotta remember to laugh and smile and party hard when you need to. Otherwise, you'll just go mad."

They looked at him sadly, not daring to speak or ask another question. And Ronald knew from the feeling of his quivering shoulders that he wasn't looking at all cool or bad-ass in front of them. Reaching up with his sleeves, he tried to wipe at the tears that were flowing freely down his face, though his mouth remained fixed in a smile. Repeatedly, he whispered,

"Just… that's all you gotta do. You've gotta keep yourself from going mad 'round here. Just stay sane. Don't let it get to you. That's all you gotta do."

And he turned around, still wiping at his eyes and laughing.

"Just don't go mad."

And as the young reapers followed behind him, now eerily quiet and downhearted, they wondered whether their guide, the not-so-young Ronald Knox had already gone mad. And silently, they each wondered to themselves how long it would take before they too would find the work to be too much.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you so much reading! I'd especially like to thank those who have been listening to my recordings of this fic on Tumblr, I worry my voice doesn't do the characters justice... But this has been a veritable learning experience for me in a lot of ways. I like to think this is the best I've written (should be, it's the latest), and it's the first fic I've been able to squeeze out an ending for. So many of my fics are unfinished because I just feel like I can't write decent endings, but I managed it with this one. I also learned a lot about voice work, recording, and I hope to be able to record more podfics in the future (including ones not written by myself). I have a lot of love for these characters and for this fandom, so again, thanks so much for keeping up with this series. Your reviews and encouragement have meant a lot to me, I read all of them, I do.


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